


there is a feeling

by hobbes



Category: Original Work
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-01
Updated: 2012-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 22:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbes/pseuds/hobbes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you think I can love?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	there is a feeling

“Do you think I can love?” she asks perfectly innocent, staring thoughtfully at him, her lips twisted into a small pout that makes Jethro freeze midway, frowning. Odile looks a bit hurt, rolling her hips forward to try and grasp his attentions. “Jethro.” she is demanding, delicate fingers scratching experimentally at his back. “Do you think I can love?”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

His sigh is resigned, dipping his head a moment before he looks back at her, “Now?”

“It’s as good a time as any.” she tells him simply, lying back and grinning. Jethro only frowns and pulls the sheets about his waist as he slides off and to the side. Odile rolls with him turning to rest her cheek on her palm, shamelessly nude and staring. “So, do you then?”

“Do I?”

“Think I can love?”

“I’ve never thought about it.” he says honestly.

Her turn to sigh, and she does, looking passed his shoulder as if she suddenly remembered a dream, or a fond childhood. “I think about it all the time.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” Odile’s face is a smile. “I think that everyone deserves to feel love.”

“Everything you mean. You’re not real, remember.” it seems only fair to remind her. She doesn’t react well to that, smile fading and she squints her eyes as if to hide the glisten that had covered them. “You’re right. Everything. You make me sound like some kind of creature.”

He’s at a loss for a moment there, and he rolls away, thinking. “Whose to say that creatures can’t have feelings, too?”

“I should say so. Everthing has got to have feelings.”

“Really? Everything?”

“If I’m a thing, and I have feelings, then yes. Everything’s got to have feelings. People cry when they’re lonely, your walls cry when it’s night out.”

“Contraction of base molecular structure rubbing on itself. That’s not crying.”

“You say.” Odile’s fingers walk their way up his arm to his shoulder, pulling him back down. She likes to see his face as she talks, mad or sad or not. “You don’t talk to metal, you wouldn’t know would you?”

“You sound like one of those Dham fools the way you talk about things. The city isn’t alive.”

Odile ponders this a moment, tilting her head only just. “Isn’t it? Surely she has feelings, too.”

Jethro would very much like to pick her brain then, he thinks. Odile would look very patient he imagines lain out on a table with the back of her skull open. Perhaps if it were, he could see how she thinks, what ideas circulate through her mind. Something like blue fire, probably, or green sparks. Something curious and unnatural and something someone would pay good money to see. “Not everyone has feelings. Some people pay to have them removed.”

“Who would do such a thing?”

“Someone with money and no time for theatrics.”

The stare she has locked on him is unreadable then. Odile’s pouty lips are twisted into a frown. Concentration says the little thought in the back of his brain. Odile’s thought process is projected onto her face, the wrinkle between her brows, the way one corner of her mouth twitches a bit; a question dying on her lips. “What is it?”

“Is that what happened to you, then?”

“No. Like I would have enough credit to get my feelings rooted out.”

“So you have feelings then?”

“Not really.”

“You’re confusing me.” She huffs.

“I don’t feel much of anything.”

“Nothing.” Odile looks devious, and it only takes her but a moment to move, she climbs atop him with a conspirator’s smirk. “You’re sure?” she shifts, gasps, and looks down expectantly.

“Statistical outlier. Nothing.”

Her hand slides over his chest, to his heart. “Do you feel that?”

“My heart.”

“Yes. Do you feel that?”

Jethro is pensive a moment, looking at her. She yelps when he moves them suddenly, a smirk of his own spreading slowly. “Well...” she sounds winded suddenly, smile impossible and bright. “That’s something.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a random snippet from a series of works that I am calling "Fallacy". It will be a large, multi-media project that's a long time coming. I just...well I guess is is possible to write fic for your own work.


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